A Desirable Residence - By Madeleine Wickham Page 0,103

buzzing around in her head.

‘Dad . . .’ she began, then stopped.

‘Yes?’ He looked at her anxiously. There was a moment’s silence. Alice pushed a hand through her hair, and forced a shaky grin onto her face.

‘Can I have a cigarette?’

Duncan went upstairs to find Ginny and Piers, and heard muffled sobbing coming from their bedroom. Oh Jesus, he thought, realizing immediately what had happened. His face sagged, and suddenly his whole body felt heavy. Although he had never confessed as much, he had hoped and wished as much as they had. For a few moments, he stood outside the door, stupidly wishing he could go in; share his disappointment; give his commiserations. At least they had each other.

Then a sound from downstairs galvanized him. The party. No one at the party must be allowed to find out. He turned briskly on his heel, ran lightly down the stairs, and picked up two open bottles of wine that stood on the hall table.

‘Who needs more booze?’ he cried. ‘Turn the music up!’

‘Duncan?’ Ginny’s friend Clarissa was tugging sweetly at his sleeve. ‘Do you know where Ginny is? We want to say goodbye.’ Duncan hesitated only for a second.

‘Well, between you and me,’ he said, grinning wickedly at her, ‘I think Ginny and Piers would rather not be disturbed just at the moment.’ He winked at Clarissa, and she gave a delighted peal of laughter.

‘Oh, all right then,’ she said. ‘Do tell them we said goodbye, won’t you?’

Liz stayed at the party until Duncan started bringing in cups of tea on trays. Then, realizing how late it was, and with only a little reluctance, she gathered together her coat, her scarf, her gloves, and went out into the freezing night air. Her resentment against Marcus; her apprehension at seeing Jonathan; her fear as to what Alice might have blurted out; all seemed to have evaporated. She walked home swiftly and evenly, thinking that what she would do when she got in was make a mug of tea and put plenty of sugar into it, and sip it, warming her hands against the sides of the mug. Beyond that, she couldn’t think.

But as she crept into the kitchen, she gave a gasp of shock. Leaning against the side, sipping from the very mug she had envisaged using, was Jonathan.

‘Did you enjoy the rest of the party?’ he said, in a low but friendly voice. ‘You’ve just missed Alice. She was a bit tired, I think.’ Liz stared at him as though in a stupor. Was he suddenly very stupid? Was he playing games with her?

‘I suppose Alice told you everything,’ she said, in a voice roughened by worry. Jonathan clutched the mug more tightly, but his expression didn’t change.

‘Alice told me nothing,’ he said evenly. ‘I don’t think there was anything to tell.’ He smiled. ‘Now sit down, and I’ll make you a nice mug of tea. With sugar.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Two weeks later, Jonathan sat in Marcus’s office and looked at him with a clear, enquiring gaze. Marcus met his eyes, coloured slightly, and looked away.

‘It’s very good of you to come in,’ he said. ‘Especially on a Saturday. I can appreciate how busy you must be.’ He paused, and his eyes fell on the local paper, open on his desk for reference at the display property advertisements. ‘Did you see the piece in here about the scholarship?’ he asked, picking it up and turning to an inside news page. ‘Quite a nice item, I thought. Anthea’s idea,’ he added.

They both looked at the grainy photograph of a grimly smiling Daniel; at the headline local prodigy wins top award. ‘I don’t think Daniel was too wild about it,’ continued Marcus. ‘But I hope it’s been some good publicity for the tutorial college.’

‘It has, as a matter of fact,’ said Jonathan, giving a small smile. ‘I had no idea there were so many children taking Common Entrance in Silchester who needed coaching.’ He looked at his watch. ‘In fact, I’ve got a class a bit later on. We’re fitting them in at all times.’

‘Oh, right you are,’ said Marcus, abruptly closing the paper. ‘I’ve got to shoot off myself, actually. But this won’t take long. I just wanted to tell you, first of all, that Ginny and Piers Prentice have given notice on the house in Russell Street.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Jonathan, his face falling. ‘That didn’t last long.’

‘Yes,’ said Marcus, frowning. ‘I’m not sure what the reason is. They’ve already left, with quite a